


red&blue

by imperfectEquinox



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Self Harm, attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:28:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1491712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperfectEquinox/pseuds/imperfectEquinox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red. It used to be your favorite color but now, as you stare at it, you think you might throw up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	red&blue

Red. It used to be your favorite color but now, as you stare at it, you think you might throw up.

Everything was always red red red _redred_ **red** and don’t believe you can look in the mirror not wearing your shades without getting sick. 

_How pretty_ he would always coo, _how pretty_. He always loved red, especially on you. _Well, he’ll just love this_ you think bitterly. 

He’ll hate this. 

He’s probably going to cry. 

He’ll hate you. ~~he could never hate you~~

He told you he probably would be here later than planned. You wonder how much latter that will be. You try to remember the planned time, the current time, but your mind is mostly blank. Everything is red.

It’s all over you, well almost. Not on your hands, no just below them. Flowing flowing flowing down your arms as you stare at them blankly. _what have you done?_ You don’t really know anymore, it's something awful though.

He’s going to be so sad. You wonder when he’ll find you, if he’ll find you. Your question is answered when a door slams shut and you can hear his voice call out. He didn’t even bother knocking. He never does though. 

You should probably try to clean up, stop what you’re doing, but you just sit in the bathroom without really comprehending anything that is going on. 

He knocks on the door. You say nothing. He knocks again. You’re still silent. He sounds worried. He tries the doorknob. It’s locked. 

**thudthudthud**

That’s not his fist banging on the door, it's something bigger and heavier. He breaks the door open. You look up at him, eyes wide. Your shades are somewhere on the floor near you. His eyes are locked on the red. 

So much fucking red. 

His eyes are blue. So fucking blue. They’re beautiful. 

His hands are everywhere, fluttering over you and his mouth is moving but you don’t really hear anything, if he’s even saying anything. You don’t know. 

He scoops you up. You don’t protest. 

You’re finally staring at something that isn’t _red_. They’re blue.

Your name is Dave Strider and you think blue is your favorite color.

**Author's Note:**

> i cut my knee shaving and this is what i pooped out  
> it's been a while since i've written davejohn and this is what brings me back  
> im so sorry?


End file.
